Naked Truth (Crimson Romance) by Tami Lund Page A

assumed. She found she felt sorry for all the women he slept with before her, and the ones who would be in his future. She doubted any of them were immune to his charms. Just like her, they probably fell for him, kept inadvertently believing that the little things he did meant more than just a good time.
    The positive aspect to his returning time and again—besides awesome sex, of course—was that she had time to get her emotions under control. So when she walked into her own house after work and Jack greeted her with a glass of chilled white wine in his hand and a warm smile on his handsome face, she knew better than to think about how sweet he was, how attentive his actions were.
    “How was your day?” he asked.
    She accepted the wine, took a sip, and kicked off her shoes. “Do you want the honest answer or the polite answer?”
    He chuckled. “Give me the truth. I can handle it.”
    Yeah, right. Would he say the same if she confessed that these adorably considerate gestures did nothing at all to help her maintain the concept of a no-emotions-allowed fling?
    “It was lousy. School bus accident. No one was killed, thank God, but it was mass chaos with all the kids’ injuries and the hysterical parents trying to claim them.”
    “That sucks. Although, like you said, thank God no one was killed. Is the wine helping?” His voice oozed sympathy. His body language shouted concern.
    “Yes, thanks.”
    “Dinner’s almost done, too.” Now he was earnest, as if he hoped his actions would help to make her feel better.
    “It smells divine.”
    “Steaks. My secret rub. I hope you like it.” He was so damn sincere.
    She could only remain emotionless for so long under this sort of treatment. She narrowed her eyes and asked, “What’s going on, Jack?”
    “Maybe I feel guilty because I keep waking you up in the middle of the night. And maybe I really appreciate you letting me sleep here last night, even though I was kind of a dick the last time I spent the night.”
    It wasn’t exactly the profession of love that she may or may not have been hoping for, but it was honest, and Lord knew Kennedy could certainly appreciate an honest man. She lifted the wine glass and motioned toward the hall leading to the bedrooms.
    “I’m just, uh, going to change out of these scrubs.”
    She escaped to her bedroom, gently closed the door, and then leaned heavily against it, closed her eyes, and gulped wine. Time for another internal pep talk.
    Do not take his actions at face value.
Jack was a master playboy, a man who knew how to seduce women. He probably never
didn’t
succeed when he decided he wanted a particular woman to share his bed.
    Why had he chosen her? How long did he intend to stick around? With the crazy hours he was forced to keep, thanks to his current case, she ought to just give him a key to her house. That way, she wouldn’t have to stumble out of bed whenever he showed up in the middle of the night. She could just roll over, and he’d be there.
    Tempting. Very tempting.
    Except giving a man a key … that was not very casual. If she offered, Jack would probably react the same way he had when she suggested she didn’t like the fact that he put himself in harm’s way for his job.
    So no key, then. Luckily, she only had one more day to work, and then she had a few off, so it wouldn’t be so disruptive when he knocked in the wee hours of the morning.
    She finally stepped away from the door, conscious of the fact that a delicious-smelling steak dinner awaited, and quickly shed the scrubs and replaced them with a fitted t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. When she opened the door again, Jack was heading toward her. She stepped into the hall and he paused.
    “Good call. I was pretty sure if I made it all the way into the bedroom, we wouldn’t come out for at least a half hour, and those steaks won’t taste nearly as good in half an hour.”
    Kennedy smiled, feeling slightly off kilter and a lot bewildered by Jack’s